Perspective
by loungelizard85
Summary: Kitty uses her sociopathic tendencies to correct a few wrongs. spoilers for 'Lights Out'; Warning: mention of pedophillia, sexual abuse, violence (briefly) and psychological harm. I do not own Glee, or any of the characters in Glee. (or The Longest Time, for that matter) Three Part story. Part two is up now.
1. Golden Rules

A/N: My response to 'Lights Out' Reviews are welcome.

Kitty had always been honest. That was her one redeeming quality, even if she whored it out every time she was angry or wanted to shut someone down.

Honestly, Mr. Shuester's guilt trips weren't doing the job. Sam and Artie didn't get it and wouldn't learn from the teacher's furrowed brow, Tina's exclamation, and New Directions stoic silence, apparently a sign of support, but likely made Ryder want the affection of 'Katie' even more.

Now, Kitty wasn't good at that sort of thing, _comfort_. She was perfectly sympathetic, sure, empathetic as all fuck. But comfort for her was as base as dumb and dumber's comments; her body for the sake of physical release that again made her no better than that babysitter: in control, without permission. If she could understand that, than Artie and Sam could too.

First though, she needed supplies.

Standing outside the Evans household, Kitty almost turned back. This could backfire horribly, and make her a pariah. But Ryder would understand that she did this for herself, and if anything were to splash back on to him, she would let them know what happened to her at that sleepover and take the shame, making it clear this was her doing, no one else's.

It took about a minute for someone to get to the door; Kitty had checked with Quinn, that Sam's parents weren't home, and that his younger siblings were. The blond boy answered, freezing for a moment, recognition mixed with suspicion and confusion.

"Hey, Kitty. Something happen? Did we have a glee meeting?" Kitty swallowed a lump in her throat and let herself in; Sam not expecting her to be so forward, let her, and she took her perch on a worn, but well kept, sofa. She shook her head as Sam shut the door.

"No. I'm here to lend… moral support." Raising one eyebrow, Kitty wondered how Quinn could have ever dated the boy- they looked like twins.

"Moral support?"

"Yes. I think you were right, what you said in glee club? Everybody didn't get it; it's different for guys than girls." Sam still looked suspicious, but nodded emphatically. Kitty resisted the urge to kick him in the crotch.

"Totally. I mean, 'hot babysitter' is like, number two on a guy's fantasy list, right?" Kitty nodded emphatically as well.

"Right after sibling's older, more experienced friend." Sam grinned. He didn't get it, and Kitty's insides tightened. She thought of someway of getting the point across, without having to resort to what she had anticipated, and hoped this would be over quicker.

Kitty wasn't lucky.

"You want to hang out? Brit…. Wasn't as understanding, I guess. So I'm free, if you don't mind two nine year olds running around." Kitty looked down and shook her head. _You're really going to make me go through with this, Evans?_

"It's fine. Actually…. That works out perfectly, in fact." Sam's tuning his guitar, and Kitty can hear his brother and sister playing in the other room; discussing some made up game they were playing. Kitty wanted to run now, flee to be accurate. But she keeps replaying Sam's and Artie's words in her mind, and her words to Ryder; how Ryder should've enjoyed himself; how she switched schools, and ran away when Ryder stood and fought, and that keeps her glued to the arm rest, the weight of the, for lack of a better word, _prop _in her school bag. She's never felt as alone now since that sleepover, and if she can get through this….

_Don't run away this time, Kitty._

"Kitty? I said, why's that?" looking up, Kitty tilts her head, hoping to crack her neck and takes a deep breath to release her nerves. They maintain their stranglehold.

"You know, what you said was so right. Guys are so immature these days, all they care about is stuff like video games and kid stuff." _Because they are kids still, _she thinks as loud as she can, hoping to stem the wave of dizziness she feels. "And even though a little help would probably make all the difference, there aren't a lot of girls willing to fill the role, huh?" Sam looks up, not really paying attention.

"No, I guess not."

"Right. Well, there should be, shouldn't there?" Sam gets a faraway look in his eyes, and nods.

"I know I wish I had had someone like that" Kitty steps closer, and Sam just keeps strumming his guitar.

"Well, it's a little late for you. Don't get me wrong, you turned out great"- This is said through gritted teeth, with a pained expression, and some part of her is grateful he doesn't look up-"but it would be great for others, right? Who could benefit… from someone like me?" Kitty wonders what she means by that; it sounds fairly self deprecating. Sam looks up.

"Kitty…" It's a warning: he gets it now, but it's not good enough for her, she needs more.

"You said your brother's nine, right? Only two years difference." Kitty is moving forward then, propelled by Sam's shove, a compromise between his desire to punch her, and to honor his refrain from ever using violence against women- it's not how he was raised. She gives a shriek before she can stop herself, landing on the couch, unceremoniously looking up from her supine position, and she feels her eyes begin to water.

Sam for his part looks horrified, she follows his gaze: his brother and sister are staring, and their scared; even upside down, the ludicrousness of her vantage point doesn't soften the situation in the slightest. She takes her window of opportunity, fighting back the reflexive shame, that she should do more, battling with all too blunt sword of logic, jumping forward, in Sam's face, she relays her message quickly, needing to end this.

"The golden rule, Evans: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Remember what you said to Ryder every time you look in your brothers face." And like that she's out into the air that's so good, so freeing, so different, it's almost addictive.

She's blocks away, when she remembers her supplies. Pulling out the three pack of condoms, fighting another wave of nauseating guilt that she should have brought them out, gone for broke, and shoved them in Sam's face.

She doesn't trust herself to let this go, so, with the last of her resiliency she hurls the condoms as hard as she can; they disappear into some trees, and she can't see where. She runs in case she might.

Runs until she's in her room, burying into the covers, eyes held tight against imagining what hell she had let loose, and the feeling that she had no choice.


	2. Play it again, Kitty

A/N: bridge chapter, leading directly into the final part, and Kitty's plans for Artie, plus some Kitty-Ryder to balance out the angst.

Kitty spent the rest of the day in anticipation, hating the loss of control. The ball was in Sam's court now, and if the shit was going to hit the fan, she'd like it to happen already.

When her mom told her there was a phone call for her, she expected (and she told herself, was ready) for it. Her insides only tightened when Ryder's voice came through the line. She had forgotten that she had placed her home phone number on the glee contact list, not wanting to be reached on her cell phone, what she considered her personal domain that the club shouldn't encroach on. She swallowed, and plastered a scowl on her face; trying to remove the chance of an overly visceral reaction should Ryder come down on her.

"Hey." Ryder's voice was hard to read, given so little to go on, and Kitty could nothing else but return the greeting.

"Hey." Kitty hoped she revealed as little to Ryder as he did to her.

"Um, I hope this is okay, calling so late, especially after I…. didn't come with you during lunch. I just wanted to talk."

"Something happen with Katie?" The question passed no judgment, and Kitty added a worried lilt to it to defend against any belief that it might.

"Um, no. She's not online right now. I wouldn't bother you with this if she was, especially since it is late-"

"You already said that, Ryder. It's fine. I have nothing better to do anyway. What's up?" Kitty was going for flippant, but curious. Playing it back in her mind, she sounded like one of those speak and say toys, rolling her eyes at herself.

"Sam apologized." Kitty froze, and stuttered over her words.

"I-I s-see." She swallowed, the scowl that was supposed to keep her from breaking up long forgotten. "When?"

"Little while ago, over the phone. Sent a text, and then we talked. It was like he was scared or something. You think Jake or Blaine did something?" Kitty scoffed on reflex.

"Like what? Tie him to a chair and make him listen to their version of _Ebony and Ivory _and make him guess which is which?" There was a loud sound at the other end, and for a moment, Kitty thought she had offended Ryder and he had slammed the phone. It took a few seconds to realize Ryder was laughing hysterically into the receiver.

A small smile formed on Kitty's face, most of her insults didn't go this well, and to get a reaction from a boy who generally kept to himself outside of pleasantries was an even greater victory.

_Perhaps I'm better at this comfort thing than I thought._

Ryder calmed down after a minute or so, and resuming their conversation, and spoke again.

"So, Sam said he was sorry and I told him to forget about it, I didn't want to have to talk about it anymore, you know." Kitty sensed Ryder rushed through that bit because he felt guilty.

"Mmmm" Comfortable talking to Ryder, and with little else to say, Kitty hummed into the receiver.

"You think I was too easy on him, don't you?" Ryder spoke softly, and yet Kitty snapped up from her bed, having taken the cordless for privacy.

"Ryder… You did what you had too awhile ago. There's no reason to open new wounds over those two dicks. One apologized, and you accepted." Kitty wondered if she was sticking up for Sam to preserve her apparent victory or to avoid another confrontation with him. Or maybe just for Ryder's sake. Running a hand through her hair, she curled into a ball, tucking the phone against her, like it was a baby. "It's over. At least with him." Artie stuck painfully in her mind, causing her to grimace. "You can let go now, okay?" Kitty heard the sound of his breathing and waited perfectly content if Ryder said nothing else this evening.

"Thanks, Kitty."

"Sure." They talked for a little while longer, and then said their goodbyes. Kitty held her fetal position, running a thumb over the phone. Feeling a little too 'girl, interrupted' and needing all her resiliency to do what she wanted to do next, even with the positive outcome of Sam's…. lesson.

Kitty had hoped her first attempt would fail, and she could say she tried and try to push past this. Her crying fit had lasted till dinner, and just before, she threw up. Drawing in a shaky breath as her nerves returned having only dissipated during her talk with Ryder, Kitty collected herself over the mantra of "…just one more time, just one more time" and let the anxiety wash over her, but refusing to panic, and pretended to be calm, steadied her breath, blowing out more forcefully than she intended.

After she was done with Abrams, things would be better. She could be confident that the thing that connected Ryder and herself was not going to make her feel like a failure, and then guilty for feeling that way, when Ryder was actually suffering. She could have a friendship, and not feel like her sole contribution to Ryder's well being was physical confirmation that he was a red blooded American boy, and that babysitter was the freak, not him. One more time, and hopefully, Kitty could go back to smirking rather than the blinding rage that kept her eyes wide and watery when Ryder told them, when Sam and Artie made light of it. Scrolling through her saved messages, she stopped at one from Coach Washington, telling the Cheerios that the pool was available for their 'nappy headed selves' if they so desired. Few made use of it.

Sighing at how serendipitous it was, when Kitty would have loved to be unable to formulate a plan, to be stumped. But she wasn't, and not acting meant she was scared…again. So she sent a text to Artie, sacrificing that protection from encroachment, making it as bawdy as possible: directive, but crude enough to inspire an understanding of innocence, what she had learned was what guys, and people in general, liked.

An invitation, after school, that he wouldn't have to clear his schedule, if he knew what she meant.

He did, and agreed very readily.

Feeling nauseous again, she slipped into bed, and played a song off her laptop.

_If you said goodbye to me tonight_

_There would still be music left to write_

_What else could I do?_

_I'm so inspired by you_

_That hasn't happened for the longest time._


End file.
